


i carry your heart with me

by aubades



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Secret Samol 2017, and some dream stuff, but a happy end, the slightest of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 10:44:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13165257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aubades/pseuds/aubades
Summary: Even when Arrell isn’t there, he is. He’s there in his notes scattered across every surface of the house, the cut flowers Arrell brought in from the garden in the corner of the kitchen, the forgotten cup of tea left out on the dining table. He's there in the memories held within each space of their home where Alyosha has leaned down to kiss Arrell, smiling, or where Arrell has surprised Alyosha by kissinghimfirst instead.He presses his hand to his chest despite himself, idly wondering where Arrell might be.





	i carry your heart with me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [3RatMoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/3RatMoon/gifts).



> Happy Secret Samol! Here is my gift for @ronithebear on Twitter!! Happy Samolidays my friend! <3

Arrell leaves in the morning, with nothing more than the rustling of his robes and a brief note to let Alyosha know he is going away. It’s not as if it's unusual for Arrell to leave suddenly, too caught up in his work to let Alyosha know ahead of time, but this particular abruptness leaves a sting in Alyosha’s mouth as soon as he awakens to an empty bed and a silent house.

He stumbles out of bed, grimacing as his bare feet touch the cold hardwood floor. Immediately, he reaches over to open the drawer of the bedside table upon which Arrell placed his note. When Alyosha finds the small box he's looking for, tucked away as far back as possible, out of sight, he bites the inside of his lip, staring at the note with a deep sense of irony - the object he had been waiting to present to Arrell this very morning had just barely escaped the wizard’s notice. Now, Alyosha would have to wait for Arrell’s return, which could be anywhere from a few days to several weeks.

Alyosha goes about his day as he always does, but the hidden box and its contents weigh heavy on his mind as he attends to his studies. He focuses on the scripture as intently as he can, but the phantom itch at the base of his skull remains, drawing his gaze away from his duties. He catches himself looking up from Arrell’s desk and leaning over to stare at the drawer several times throughout the day.

He begins his letter to Arrell four times and each time is left deeply unsatisfied after the first line, crumpling the parchment into a ball and tossing it aside. A small pile forms by the edge of Arrell’s desk. Alyosha wrinkles his nose, gently chastising himself about taking better care of Arrell’s things.

Even when Arrell isn’t there, he is. He’s there in his notes scattered across every surface of the house, the cut flowers Arrell brought in from the garden in the corner of the kitchen, the forgotten cup of tea left out on the dining table. He's there in the memories held within each space of their home where Alyosha has leaned down to kiss Arrell, smiling, or where Arrell has surprised Alyosha by kissing _him_ first instead.

He presses his hand to his chest despite himself, idly wondering where Arrell might be.

Eventually, he makes his way to bed, slipping underneath the large pile of blankets he needs despite that it’s spring. After a moment, he impulsively reaches over to swap Arrell’s pillow out with his. He takes a deep breath, inhaling the lingering scent of Arrell.

Alyosha falls asleep thinking about how Arrell had been too preoccupied to kiss him goodbye.

\---

Alyosha awakens to the sound of a pen scratching against parchment and the feeling of someone next to him in the bed. He inhales sharply and rolls over. Immediately, with a tightness in his chest, he recognizes Arrell.

The wizard doesn't react, just continues to write, his brow furrowing like it always does when he's deep in concentration. Alyosha watches the expression in Arrell's eyes, distant but determined, until he realizes he's forgetting to breathe. He exhales shakily, sitting up in the bed.

“You're home already?” Alyosha asks, voice small and quiet. Arrell doesn't reply.

Alyosha frowns and as he reaches out to touch Arrell's arm, he suddenly notices the room around them is unfamiliar. His hand falls back to his side as he examines their surroundings.

The room is dim - Arrell writes by candlelight - but Alyosha can tell that it's small, with nothing more than the bed they sit on, a table shoved into the corner by the window, and a single chair that looks as though it's barely held together at all. There's the low rumbling sound of people below them, moving about and laughing. Alyosha wonders if they're in some kind of an inn.

There is the sound of ocean waves rolling in the distance and the smell of fish hangs in the air. The stars peek in through the open window, glittering above the rooftops of the neighboring houses. Alyosha realizes they must be in Velas.

He glances over at Arrell again, who doesn't seem to notice that Alyosha is there at all. Alyosha frowns again, reaching out to grab Arrell's hand as it scribbles across his journal. Yet, as soon as Alyosha's hand should come into contact with Arrell's, it stops. As if there is some strange force preventing him from touching Arrell, his hand hovers right above the wizard's skin. Alyosha makes a loud, indignant noise, the kind of sound that would normally make Arrell raise his eyebrows over the edge of a book, but once again, Arrell remains oblivious to Alyosha's presence.

“I'm still dreaming,” Alyosha says out loud.

He tries to press his hand once again to Arrell's arm, but feels nothing but air underneath his fingertips. He sighs, pulling his knees up to his chest, and watches as Arrell continues to write steadily, with purpose. Alyosha can't stop himself from smiling a little at the sight.

Eventually, he finds himself drifting off to sleep once again, head drooping onto his knees. He yawns, moving to settle back into bed, wondering if falling asleep in the dream means he will wake up back home.

Alyosha glances at Arrell one last time, admiring the way Arrell is illuminated in the candlelight, softening the normally harsh lines of his face. There are a few strands of hair that threaten to fall into his face, and Alyosha has to resist the urge to push them back behind his ear.

Something catches Alyosha's attention out of the corner of his eye - a small flash of blue in the otherwise dark room. His eyes widen as he realizes there are flowers set out on the table in a small jar. They glow bright in the darkness, seemingly preserved by magic. The same flowers, in fact, as the ones Arrell brought in from the garden after Alyosha remarked on the beauty of their color.

“They match your eyes,” Arrell had mumbled, a rare moment of sentimentality, before he pushed the vase into Alyosha's hands and retreated up to his room.

Now, Alyosha stares at the wizard. His throat suddenly feels hoarse.

“You…” Alyosha's voice trails off to barely a whisper. “You don't even know I'm here, do you?”

He smiles, leaning over to kiss Arrell on the cheek, but pauses, biting his lip and leans just a little bit farther, until Arrell's face is directly in front of his.

“I love you,” Alyosha says and closes his eyes. Surging forward, he fully expects to once again feel only air, but he is startled to instead find the warmth of Arrell's lips on his own.

Before he can do or say anything, Alyosha feels Arrell pull away sharply as he gasps and drops his journal.

However, as Alyosha opens his eyes, he sees that he is once again staring at the ceiling of a familiar bedroom, not Arrell’s face.

His heart thunders in his chest as he recognizes the pale beginnings of dawn streaking into the room from behind the window curtains. Alyosha looks over to the other side of the bed and although he finds that he is alone once again, something like hope bubbles inside his chest.

\---

Two days later, Alyosha pulls the box out of the bedside drawer and takes it downstairs, setting it out on the dining table in plain sight - impossible for Arrell to miss when he returns home. Alyosha still isn’t quite sure what he’s going to say to Arrell when he does come back. Whenever he tries to imagine the conversation around the contents of the box, his face grows red, his stomach twisting into knots, so he pushes the thoughts away and focuses on something else instead.

Alyosha chooses to spend the day distracting himself in the garden, working with his hands in the dirt, underneath the steady gaze of the sun. He begins with trimming back the rose bushes that line the edges of the garden, which have become tangled and overcrowded. As he works, he hums lightly to himself.

Alyosha is careful to avoid the thorns. His mouth twists into a rueful smiles as he considers how, when it comes to Arrell, he’s often unable to avoid getting pricked.

Once he’s finished with the roses, Alyosha finds himself staring the patch of blue flowers nestled by the stone bench where Arrell likes to sit - when Alyosha can coax him outside. They have small petals and thin leaves, but are brilliant in color, standing out even among the rest of the flowers in the garden.

“Just like in the dream,” Alyosha whispers. He leans back on his feet, turning his face up toward the sun, taking a moment to bask in the light.

Alyosha thinks of Arrell as a gentle spring breeze caresses his cheeks. He wonders what the dream meant, if anything at all. He wonders where Arrell is now, if he is still in Velas. He wonders so many things, all the questions he keeps at bay when Arrell is around, not wanting to bother the wizard, choosing just to look upon Arrell’s face instead.

Alyosha sighs, turning to head back into the house, but as he does, he suddenly feels a kiss on his forehead, as warm as the sun. It’s unmistakably familiar, the kind of indulgence Arrell is so rare to give, and Alyosha _knows_ it’s him, somehow, just as Alyosha was somehow in Velas only a few nights before.

Alyosha holds his spade tight in his hand, glancing around at the empty garden. Yet, there’s another sigh, this time not his own, and the feeling of a thumb softly dragging across Alyosha’s jaw, down to the hollow of his neck.

Just as quick as it came, the feeling disappears, evaporating into the wind. However, Alyosha carries the warmth with him for the rest of the day.

\---

The following morning, as the sun hails the start of a new day, Alyosha stirs awake to the sound of the front door creaking open. He huddles further into the blankets, allowing himself to drift somewhere in between sleep and full consciousness as he listens to Arrell take off his boots, dropping them onto the floor with two solid thuds.

He hears the creaking of wood as Arrell walks further into the house, a slight pause, and then the padding of footsteps up the stairs. Alyosha opens his eyes just as Arrell enters the bedroom and, when he sees the look on Arrell’s face, he wonders for a moment if he’s dreaming once again.

Arrell’s cheeks are flushed, his eyes soft as he stares at Alyosha. Alyosha’s pulse speeds up as he realizes Arrell is holding the box in his hands.

“I’m home, Pupil,” Arrell says, his voice low and steady. Alyosha smiles. Normally, he is the first one to greet the other when Arrell returns.

“Welcome back, Tutor,” he replies, slowly sitting up. Arrell crosses the room, sliding onto the bed to sit next to him. He places the box on the unused pillow next to Alyosha, before frowning slightly.

“You’re using my pillow,” he says, and Alyosha can’t help but laugh at the confusion in Arrell’s voice.

“Yours is softer,” Alyosha lies.

Arrell hums, fingers twitching against the box, falling silent.

“Did you have a good trip?” Alyosha asks.

“Yes,” Arrell begins. “I…” He seems to choose his words carefully. “I found what I was looking for but...something rather odd happened, as well, and then...I had a very interesting dream.”

“Hmm,” Alyosha tilts his head back against the wall behind the bed. “As did I, Tutor.”

Arrell watches him. “I see.”

“You should open the box,” Alyosha says, inhaling a deep breath. “I have something I want to tell you.”

Instead, Arrell continues to talk. “Sometimes...the magic works in ways even I don’t yet understand.” The corners of Alyosha’s mouth twitch at the slight irritation in Arrell’s tone as he concedes there are still smaller mysteries for him to uncover.

“I see,” Alyosha parrots, waiting for Arrell to open the box, his heart pounding uncomfortably in his chest.

“I missed you,” Arrell confesses suddenly. “I think that might have been why you were...there, and then I was…”

“Here?” Alyosha adds, watching as a blush deepens across Arrell’s cheeks.

“Yes,” Arrell finishes. The fall into silence once again.

“Please open the box, Arrell,” Alyosha says quietly.

The use of his name seems to finally shake Arrell into the present. He does so and pulls out a small golden locket on a long chain.

Arrell stares at it, seemingly speechless for once. Alyosha bites his lip, looking down at his hands.

“I know I can’t go with you when you leave,” Alyosha says, “so I wanted to, at least in a small way, send a piece of myself with you...so that you’re not alone.”

Alyosha laughs abruptly, unable to look away from his hands as he hears the soft click of Arrell opening the locket to find Alyosha’s self-portrait inside.

“It’s not much, but…I suppose some selfish part of me doesn’t want to be away from you completely and-”

“Alyosha,” Arrell says, cutting him off. Alyosha looks up just in time to see Arrell leaning toward him, holding the locket tight in his hand, and then they are kissing.

Alyosha inhales sharply, the weight of how good it feels to kiss Arrell drawing him in even closer. He clutches at Arrell’s shirt, and then at Arrell’s hands - the locket resting between their fingers.

When they part, Arrell whispers a “thank you” so quiet that Alyosha isn’t sure Arrell meant for him to hear it. But then, he kisses the top of Alyosha’s forehead, just as before, and Alyosha feels warm and content and _loved_.

Alyosha leans back, looking Arrell deep in his eyes, and says, “Tutor, tell me about your trip.”

Keeping their hands clasped together, Arrell lays down next to Alyosha, then takes a deep breath.

“Well,” Arrell begins. Alyosha can see the ghost of a smile on his lips. “I received a letter from an acquaintance in Velas last week…”


End file.
